


Scars

by wildrosesandpeonies



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Training, canon compliant ????, judo sticks, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildrosesandpeonies/pseuds/wildrosesandpeonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Will Oliver ever train Felicity to fight?” “I certainly hope not. I like her away from danger.” ~Stephen Amell</p><p>4 times Oliver declined to train Felicity, and the one time he finally accepted.</p><p> </p><p>All mistakes mine, not beta read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Diggle

 

 

 

“Ohhhhhh,” Felicity moaned as her body hit the floor. Again. This wasn’t fun but it was necessary. Dig was training her. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate for Oliver to train her? No, she and Oliver had come to an agreement on that. It was already confusing enough —being a couple at long last. “I already mixed dating and training before, and it didn’t go so well, I’d rather you learn with someone else,” he had explained. Felicity had thought he was just referring to Sara — if only he had just been referring to Sara alone. Of course, he’d rather she’d not train at all. Something about Felicity training had always set his mind at unease, but he could never pinpoint why. Or maybe he didn’t want to know why? At any rate, “it would practical after what happened this year for me to get more self-defense in,” she had very pointedly made him realize one day. He wasn’t going to argue: even if he didn’t want it, she needed it. But his line in the sand was training her. Let someone else do that. That someone else turned out to be Dig, who was more than eager to pass along tips and tricks to Felicity. 

 

“Felicity, we can stop whenever.” Dig looked on at Oliver who was in Felicity’s chair by her beloved computers. Where he wants her to be—that’s obvious, Dig thought. Dig himself had never been able to pinpoint why Oliver had no problem with any other woman being physically capable of taking care of herself—only Felicity. Well, at least he had dropped that bull line about how they could protect her. Felicity slowly got up from the floor. “This is just like the first time you trained me. I had a crick in my neck that time too. God, I always forget how stiff I am compared to you guys until I actually am attempting to learn how to move like you.”

 

“Yeah, and you told me back then you could reason your way out with any criminal. I’m glad to see you’ve come to realize differently.”

 

Oliver guffawed from where he was. Incredible! “Felicity — “ but he couldn’t finish his sentence out loud because he knew it wasn’t true. He would have been rolled his eyes at her and lectured her likely, but he never would have removed her from the Team. But for someone as pragmatic as her to believe that once? He sighed, not out of anger or frustration but a weird sense of disbelief. Well, at any rate, she had come a long way since then. So had he. 

 

Her body ached all over but she was relentless. No, Dig, don’t be nice. Train me. Train her he did. But Felicity sensed he was holding back on account on Oliver being there, watching, judging every aspect. Dig wouldn’t admit he was also holding back on account of himself. It should have been Lyla training her, but Lyla was out of commission, still recovering her body, still at home with a baby. Lyla longed to get back to work and was jealous of her Johnny training Felicity, but she would be back in time. 

 

She had barely emerged from the floor when Dig had pummeled her again. “Training isn’t just about getting your body in shape. It’s keeping your senses alert - aware of the danger, being appraised of the unexpected around the corner, being ready to throw the surprise punch. Oliver taught me that.”

 

“Oliver?” her voice peeped up curiously as she lay on the long fitness mattress. She didn’t move. She herself wasn’t badly injured but her dignity was. She was done for the day. 

 

Oliver glanced over at her. His face was neutral, but she saw a tiny sliver of amusement in his eyes. She smiled weakly and said “help me up Dig. I have to check the computers before we turn in for the night.” John helped her out and she limped over the buzzing screens always transmitting data about the whereabouts of their enemies. 

 

“Oliver?” Her hand passed along his back as he moved from the chair and she sat down in it. Despite being worn down by Dig, her eyes became alert and vibrant again as they scanned the computers. She looked back over at Dig who was starting to pack up. “Tell me, you two. How does a former war veteran learn those skills from an archer?”

 

Oliver smirked at Dig. “Well, John already knew those things, he merely needed to be reminded of them.” He told her of the first time he and John trained with the judo sticks. “He didn’t go easy on me either,” Dig finished. This was one of the few stories from before her time in the lair. “Dig, it is hard to imagine you once being awkward like that. It appears your reflexes have gone considerably up since then.” 

 

“Yes, they have. Of course, Oliver had a tendency to leave moving cars or go to the restroom and never come back, so he had me practicing awareness long before I joined the team.”

 

That night Oliver and Felicity lay in bed. Felicity was still sore from the training. She was quiet as she stretched and carefully moved her body around. She wasn’t feeling comfortable, but it wasn’t just because her body hurt. There was an elephant in the room, but neither of them were going to address it tonight.

 

“Would you like me to make you feel better?” Oliver cupped her face tenderly. 

 

“Talking to Dig today reminded me of when I first joined you. How you used to train in front of me. Oh, the perverted thoughts that used came into my mind!”  She pushed away his hand from her face. “You can look but don’t touch.”

 

“Soooooooo.”, Oliver paused a bit baffled, knowing she was avoiding the subject, but not ready to address it either: how do you bring up something that you don’t even know why it bothers you? “Are you not remembering all the times I let you heal up my scars, my wounds, that came from fights?” 

 

“I don’t have any scars. These bruises are just my body’s pathetic attempts to make up for all those years I didn’t pay attention in gym class.”

 

“You’re not pathetic.” Oliver’s voice was soft but his face was scowl and his eyes had gone dark for a moment. 

 

“I didn’t — I didn’t mean like that. All I meant was — I’ve never been an exercise type."

 

“You don’t need more scars, Felicity. I already have enough for the both of us. All the battle wounds you have acquired since Tockman are too much for me. I can bear them, but you shouldn’t have to.”

 

“I know I don’t need more scars, and yes, you are right. You always let me take care of you. You can do the same if my training comes to that.”

 

She reached over and kissed his fingertips. She knew how he had pulled them out on the Alanzo. The hands were long since healed, but the memory of the torture was still inside him. Had that healed? Or was it forever an open wound? “Did anybody ever tell you how incredibly brave you were?” She said, almost to herself as she stroked his tips of fingers and felt his fingernails one by one.

 

No, no one ever had. Shado perhaps, but she had died when he had a moment of cowardice. _But what did it mean to be brave when there was always the fear of being weak?_ Besides, hadn’t he been more — foolish, naive, innocent? That’s what Slade had always told him. He remembered Shado had considered him whiny as well. Brave? He hadn’t been brave, he had been — so many things but not that. 

Felicity lay her head on Oliver’s chest, near his heart. She could feel it beating faster. What memory was he thinking of? 

 

“I thought you said, ‘look but don’t touch."

 

“You have the scars; I don’t. I’m touching you,” she grinned and nuzzled her body closer into his. Oliver sighed. It was still an unreal feeling having Felicity snuggled against him. He hoped he would never get used to it. Indeed, he was positive he never would.

 

 The elephant had left the room for the moment. Oliver reached one of his hands over and started stroking Felicity’s hair and then began massaging her neck where she had pulled it wrong. “Ow,” she flinched at first, but then slowly relaxed to his touch. But while half his attention was on her, the other half was lost in thought. Eventually, he pulled his free hand, palms out - nails towards him-- close to his face. Even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness, he looked at it intently. His one goal had been to survive, to get to his friends, but had that been brave when he the words that had kept him going were “living for the weak”?

 

Felicity didn’t say anything. She could sense Oliver’s mind was somewhere else. Somewhere between thought and memory, he drifted off into sleep.

 

He woke up later with an unsettled feeling. Shado? What were you trying to tell me? He always hated dreaming about Shado, because she only seemed to appear in his nightmares, but he knew this dream hadn’t been a nightmare. Her image was slipping away from him as the dream vanished, but he had the thought she had been trying to tell him something he had forgotten about himself. Something that he needed to know. But why? And what did it have to do with his distaste for Felicity training? He’d rather not think about that so he pushed the image of former love aside and drifted back to sleep.


	2. Sara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How the hell does 1/5th of a drabble get that many kudos and views??? I'm very, very unnerved. I hope you enjoy chapter 2 and thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> Also: bonus Roy, who was not supposed to be part of this story, but decided to nosy on in anyway (but doesn't he always?)

This oddball arrangement was unusual, even for them. Oliver was on diaper duty, cooing and cuddling with Diglet, while Roy and Dig were sparring with the judo sticks. Nyssa was out patrolling and Sara was training Felicity over by the dummy. Oliver could hear flacks of their conversation waffling over as he watched Roy and Dig taunt and poke at each other. Roy was surprisingly good and picking this up easily, which came from years in the Glades trying to avoid stowaway knives, but he didn’t have Dig’s discipline or rigor. 

 

Oliver purposely had his back to Felicity and Sara. Felicity had been outmatched by Dig—but that was the point. If she couldn’t handle Dig, she couldn’t handle other villains and that should have nipped this self-defense obsession in the bud. Instead, Sara had come home and, after hearing Felicity happily babble away, had offered to teach her.  “We’re small, remember?” Tonight they were discussing Laurel as they circled around the dummy.

 

“She could be doing it for emotional validation,” Felicity brought her feet back together and put her hands down to contrentrate on Sara’s brewing emotions, sensing trouble. Despite her concern, she was glowing. Sara was constantly straightening or stretching her out and Felicity came alive under her touch. If Felicity had stumbled under Dig, she was the model student under Sara’s tutelage. Sara was in a slight fit due to something Laurel had suggested — whatever it was, she wasn’t discussing it with Oliver or the rest of the Team— but Felicity made her smile, always knowing when to make a joke. The blue eyed, pony-tailed blondes were like mirrors reflecting light off of one another. They enjoyed and cherished one another’s company, and it came too rare these days.

 

“That doesn’t mean she needs to run into danger.” Sara hit the dummy hard causing Felicity to flinch and step back, but also to gaze at Sara appreciatively.

 

“She’s not running into danger, she’s trying to do actual good.”

 

“She already does good—she’s a lawyer! She works with the underprivileged in the Glades. She’s —“ Sara left her sentence unfinished and whacked the dummy again. She pointed at the dummy and moved aside. She silently showed Felicity a body posture and hand positioning and then Felicity stepped in front of the dummy.

 

Oliver didn’t realize he was nodding in agreement with Sara, but he became aware he ceased doing so when he heard Felicity pick up where Sara had stopped. “already being a good person,” PUNCH “but if she wants to do more,” PUNCH, “you can’t - you won’t” PUNCH PUNCH “be able to contain her.”  

 

“She’ll get hurt. How many times had she gotten herself kidnapped or nearly killed.” This time Sara kicked the dummy. “Why are you so eager to side with her? She needs protection, not to become an---.” 

 

“YYYYYOOOOOOWWWWW!” Roy screeched interrupting their conversation and causing little Diglet to cry. It was his doing that Lyla and John’s precious little bundle had that nickname. Dig had protested and threatened, but somehow the nickname stuck. Oliver gave a scowl at Roy and then snuggled up Diglet on his shoulder, patting her back. He had always thought he only had room in his heart for one baby—Thea— but perhaps there were room for others. But while he enjoying being the Uncle; he had business on his mind too: time to talk to Laurel again. He was also secretly grumpy Felicity wasn’t at her computer, and what the hell did Sara think she was doing complaining about Laurel on that topic but then having no qualms about training “My Felicity —"

 

Suddenly Oliver noticed the room had gotten very still and everybody was staring at him. Sara batted her eyelashes “nobody, least of all me, is stopping you from training your girlfriend.” She came over to get little Diglet and got her hand smacked, playfully but with a firm touch. “My baby tonight. Don’t you have to finish your girl talk with Fliss?” Oliver looked back at Felicity and smiled, but he could tell she could smell his true vibe. Sara walked back to the dummy shrugging her shoulders and questioning Felicity with her eyes. 

 

She and Felicity were silent for awhile. Roy and Diggle resumed judo stick sparring. Lyla was out of town on her first mission since having the baby. It had taken time and patience to figure out how to fit a baby into this lifestyle of theirs, but it was working. As for Oliver, he felt as it he was losing control over everything. He felt happier and couldn’t deny this new groove each of them was creating together and separately was far more interesting than the old, well-worn paths he had tried to retread without success, but he also felt more uncertain about the future. 

 

Felicity finally broke the silence. “Sara, remember how I saved you from Tockman? You said I was brave, but really I wasn’t. I was feeling insecure. I went in over my head — cuz I felt I needed to prove myself. I wouldn't put myself in danger like that now, but back then—I felt I had to, in order to measure up, because I felt left out. I know it wasn’t bravery, but I still did it. But even if it wasn’t a good moment, it’s not as I was new to threats - the first time I was ever got out in the field, I got a bomb strapped around my neck. It didn’t stop me from going back again though — and you can’t stop Laurel now that’s she’s made up her mind.”

 

“She has the law,” Sara pointed out again, but her voice had no ammunition behind it.

 

“Why should that be enough? She’s doing this for her, not you.” There was a quiet, fierce passion in her tone, but after she finished saying it, Felicity looked down then towards Oliver. “It’s not ideal, but we can’t live in our lives in hiding. If we get killed, we get killed, but if we live, we’ll fight another day.” She was speaking to Sara, but he felt her statements were addressed at him as well.

 

“Yes, she’s always fighting for something,” Roy finally managed to get a jab in at Dig, who did not loudly whimper but decided to call it quits. Oliver was getting restless and those two lovebirds could hash it out after they had all gone. He could smell a fight coming from a mile away, and he no desire to witness it. Besides, Diglet did need some sense of normalcy in her routine. Time to get her to her crib while there was still quiet in the air in Starling City. Quiet that probably wouldn’t last long as they all knew.

 

A confrontation was brewing, but while Oliver could detect what the elephant in the room was now and thought he was completely right about his opinion— Felicity hadn’t quite pinpointed it, but she was getting close to figuring it out. She could sense the shape and outline, but she didn’t fully grasp what it was yet, and until she was completely certain of it, she wasn’t going to call Oliver out on his bullshit. She knew it had something to do with this self-defense, but what? He wasn't being secretive about his feelings -- he never could get anything past her -- but he was being self-absorbed and selfish in a rather unusual way. Not that he could stop her, but it grated.  

 

That night they were in the shower washing each other. Felicity was sweaty and stinky from her training session. Meanwhile, Oliver felt raw and almost possessive. In other years, he would have sought sex or drink to heal to avoid these feelings. He felt unnerved by this new sort of intimacy he and Felicity had but it was more emotionally rewarding. A guilty thought trickled into his mind which he quickly vanquished. He was not in the wrong! If he was, he would have been called out on it already. Now, it made sense why Felicity was so intent on her training. 

 

“You said you weren’t brave, Felicity, but you were.” He was washing her back with the washcloth. The soap and steam mixed got into his nostrils. He moved her closer to him so she wouldn’t slip as he continued lathering her. “I told back then you would always be my girl, and I meant it, even if I didn’t know just how much.” He kissed her scar. They were finally together, but it scared him to think of all the times he could have lost her — without her knowing that he loved her. 

 

“Oliver, --.” She turned around and faced him looking him squarely in the face. No, she wasn’t going to confront him but she asserted “I know that. You have to realize though I felt out of my element. Just as you once were out of your element, but you adapted.”

 

“I wasn’t brave when I got these scars. Hell, some of them are my fault, Felicity.”

 

“We are not comparing sob stories, Oliver. What we do for a living is dangerous—as you once pointed out to me—and the past is in the past, we can’t change that, we can only move forward.”

 

“So let’s make a truce — we both were brave,” he playfully but seriously suggested. 

 

Why was it easier being Arrow, the hero, than Oliver, the human? He had denied long and hard how much he loved Felicity, but now that he was in a relationship, he was struggling to fit the two together, and also to remember his past, but not to bring it into his present. But, how? He had so much baggage. But it wasn’t so much the baggage, it was something else. Something that kept recurring in his life, it seemed. Anyway, this wasn't like that argument he had had with Sara when Slade came into town. Then, he had tried to make Sara's choices for her. He wasn't doing that now, even if he privately disagreed with Felicity. She was training on her own terms: just not with him beside her. 

 

They continued cleaning each other. There were no bruises, scratches, blood, or scrapes to be cautious about. Just their scars, sweat, and an underlying tension. They could easily soak in a hot tub or have a romantic bubble bath, but somehow Oliver found this shower routine, practical and unromantic as was, more soothing and calming. Sometimes, their steamy overly-heated showers lead to sex, but it also didn't need to. Oliver just enjoyed being able to run his hands close to Felicity’s bared skin. He enjoyed memorizing her body, from forehead to toes, from ear piercings to toenails. He had slept with so many women, but only been this close to just — one, her.

 

He felt didn’t have anything to feel sorry for either. He wasn’t pushing her away, emotionally or physically. Besides, Sara didn’t like Laurel training. It had to be one and same. Laurel and Felicity, over-achievers, thinking they needed to do everything, be everything, when all they needed to be was themselves. He had been ridiculous letting himself feel twinges of angst over her taking self-defense. Besides, Sara was seldom in town so it’s not like Felicity was going to become a mini-Canary overnight if at all. He might dislike it, but it wasn’t something he needed to fret about. He decided to not to bother talking with Laurel either. Let it go, Oliver.

 

But then, maybe it would be better to tell her why he particularly disliked her training. It was on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say it, but instead, he found himself telling her about the first time Slade had trained him with judo sticks.  The elephant was in the room and Felicity wasn’t going to push Oliver. Not yet. “Roy might be untamed, but Slade would have been pleased with him.” Oliver was faithful to what had happened — except for Slade comments about what Oliver was comparable to. Fighting like a girl? Shado, Sara, even Felicity — each in their way -- were more powerful than Slade himself ever would be. Slade might have been a mentor, who gave him a pathway to becoming a hero, but it was the women in his life who forced him to see himself as one.

 

“Shado trained me too. Everything I learned from her is how I teach Roy.” He couldn’t repress a smile as he recalled those first few days, "God, I felt like such an idiot slapping that bowl of water while she did yoga in front of me. I felt so useless.” 

 

He finished scrubbing her body and paused his story as she started shampooing his hair. He closed his eyes and felt himself melt away into her arms. Finally, they were were glistening and clean. They got out and dried off, then still only in their towels and with Felicity’s hair damp but brushed, went to lie down in bed. She had just gotten up to get their jammies when he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back down, and pulled her towards him. He kissed her in a spot just below the ear and then slowly nuzzled the area with his stubble until she giggled. 

 

He then went on to tell Felicity all his ups and downs learning how to use the bow and what it meant to hit a tree. How Shado had accused him of thinking too much and how he had messed up time after countless time before finally getting it right. But most of all, how she had trusted him — to save her life, and how he had, even though he just barely felt capable of using a bow.

 

And as he embraced the past he had long since hid away, a slow thread began to form in his disjoined narratives: Slade was roguish and distrustful of Oliver long before he turned evil, Shado was skeptical but open towards him but also dead: how had he turned out the one still living if not a normal life, at least one where he had everything his heart desired? Why him? 

 

A thought that remained unspoken though: Shado would have liked Felicity. Striking, Shado was like Felicity. He involuntarily shivered at the sudden recognition. 

 

Felicity went from unrealized anger about what they were not fighting about yet to wistfulness as she heard Oliver’s stories. Oliver may have matured and was finally coming into his own, but that doofus who always wanted to please and be liked, who wanted to be treated as an equal but needed guidance —despite what he believed, that boy still existed. They fell asleep on top of the bed wrapped in each other’s bodies. They were a tangled mess of arms, legs, and Felicity’s hair every which way.

 

 During the wee hours just before the dawn, she awoke him, “Oliver, you’re having a dream. Wake up.” She nudged him carefully from his slumber. But it hadn’t been a nightmare, surprisingly enough. It had been Shado, washing his hands at the riverbank, telling him everybody had two sides, the hero and the demon. He remembered what he had thought about earlier in the shower: the women in his life forced him to become more. He had forgotten that memory, or maybe he had been so grief-stricken over her death that he had no desire to remember the few and far between happy stories. He told Felicity his dream-memory in puzzlement and wonder, worried that she might be jealous of his “fantasy island” lover. No, she wasn’t jealous. She felt a wave of melancholy wash over her as she contemplated Oliver’s more innocent self. She also had a new-found respect for Shado and the hood Oliver so faithfully wore in her memory. She was glad Oliver had had someone like her to give him wisdom, love, and friendship, who taught him how to respect himself and respect others as well. 

 

Meanwhile, Oliver wondered Shado would think about his dilemma with Felicity. He had no doubt she would be disgusted at him, but she was the second woman he lost after he lost Sara—who he would lose again. Sara may have been restored, but Shado was gone forever. Her life, her choice — Slade had once informed Oliver, but no, Slade, it’s never so simple as that. It’s never solely about choices alone.


	3. Helena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for the kudos!

Felicity was wriggling on the floor. Helena said nothing but watched her as she flopped about.

 

“I give up,” she said finally.

 

“You do not. Be creative. If you have no knife on you to free yourself, you make one. If you can’t make one, you find the nearest object that has sharp edges and use that. There is always a way to free yourself.”

 

“Helena, that’s easy for you to say, but why is this necessary? Learning how to kick, punch, or duck would be far better.”

 

“Yes, until you actually find yourself tied up and your team has no way to get to you.” Helena paused and looked around. “I never thought I’d be training you, let alone back in here. I’m surprised Oliver isn’t training you. He was always such a show-off, thinking he knew more than I did."

 

Helena Bertinelli, always knowing how to launch a grenade, even when she thought she was only making polite conversation. This time, she didn’t mean any malice with her words, but the harm had been done.

 

“Oliver trained you?” Felicity’s voice remained neutral, but the grenade had gone off, and now Oliver was going to have to answer some questions later. She knew what his line in the sand was, had thought she had understood it, and had tried to make peace with his unease—but now, she realized, there was so much more. 

 

“Yes.” Helena made a face. “No! Obviously, he didn’t train me. I already had my own skills, but he tried to teach me how to use the bow and arrow. He also tried to teach me his philosophies. I felt back then that he was —weak.” 

 

Felicity pondered. Was was his unease about? It wasn’t just as simple as mixing dating and training. Nor was it a matter of ‘knowing more’ because Helena and Sara were equals to Oliver as far as Felicity was concerned from their handling of the bow and arrow to martial arts to disguises. Oliver might have been ’showing off’ to both of them, but he had also probably been trying to connect. Also, she had no desire to match their unbelievable strength when she had her unique skill set that made her irreplaceable, and Oliver himself knew that. So, why be so concerned? It would be unfair to call it a simple disagreement, or a lack of communication, when it was such a petty issue — on her side at least. But why such a big deal for Oliver? He had every right to worry for her safety. He also had every right to worry that her recklessness would still lead into precarious places where she wouldn’t be able to defend herself despite being more knowledgable about hand-to-hand combat and self-defense. 

 

“Was he worried about you being scarred?” Felicity carefully asked. Once she asked it, she realized that wasn’t the question that she needed answered or the question that needed to be asked, but it must tie in — somehow. From Sara, to herself, to Dig, to Roy, Oliver - either playfully or seriously - had always treated war wounds as things to be avoided.

 

“No, he thought we were already scarred enough. We both had our islands. He knew he couldn’t hurt me anymore than I could hurt him. He did think he could save me though. I was too late for saving, but he was soft even back then.”  _Just like with Sara._

 

Helena, Sara, and Laurel were forming a team. Team Arrow couldn’t do it alone. Sara couldn’t always be there, but Laurel had suggested they go meet with Felicity. Of course, they knew she was loyal to Oliver first, but perhaps when she needed breaks, she could assist them. They were fumbling for a name. The Vultures? Didn’t sound right. Lady Assassins? Laurel pointed out that killing should be their last option — and due process still mattered. Sara also added that name sounded too much like League of Assassins.  Birds of Prey? Hmmmmm. They wanted Felicity to join them. Sara had made her peace with Helena on Laurel’s bequest, but she wasn’t going to pressure Felicity to join one way or the other.

 

“Well, if I join, that means I’m going to need to know how to fight,” Felicity had reminded them. Helena hadn’t wanted to train her, but Felicity reminded her of “that time you roped me up.” 

 

Oliver was torn but relived. He was glad Helena resisted training Felicity in typical martial arts fashion. This form, however, was acceptable. No body would fall at Felicity’s feet or get beaten to a bloody pulp, she was merely — learning to escape. He appreciated that Helena brought that deficiency to all of their attentions. 

 

The sessions were awkward. Helena was friendly — but distant. She didn’t know if Felicity still thought of her as Oliver’s psycho ex, and Felicity had no reason to forgive her for the past. But one day Felicity’s babbling brought them to the subject they were on now.

 

“You remember McKenna? That police officer Oliver used to date? She got caught in the crosshairs. Badly.” Helena paused remembering the injury she had given McKenna. "She wasn’t the only one. I kidnapped Laurel, I threatened to hurt you.”

 

Yes, Felicity remembered McKenna. She recollected that Oliver had dated many women who could take care of themselves, but McKenna was more like herself than her rogue vigilantes who dabbled in Shakespearean dramatics.  

 

“Would you have hurt me if I had fought back?”

 

“I don’t know, Felicity. Would you have fought back?”

 

It was useless to ask theoretical questions, but the air was clearing between them. To Felicity’s surprise, Oliver wanted her to join this new team the Lance sisters and Helena were putting together. It would mean more danger but Felicity was only going to be spending more time behind a computer screen, tracking and hacking. What could possibly befall her? Felicity herself, despite some reservations, was more than happy to join once she thought it over. If Laurel really trusted Helena, why shouldn’t she?  Until Sara had joined Team Arrow, she had never realized how alone she felt as the only woman. Oliver and Diggle had always appreciated her, but it was nice having a fellow woman to talk to, to fight crime with.  

 

Helena remained silent for awhile as Felicity wormed her way her across the floor. Improvise. That she could do. It was just deciding what would be the appropriate weapon to free herself. As the thought crossed her mind, she recalled that Oliver was always affected by the words of others. Annoyed as she was, if only she could find the right words to break though this barrier he resolutely kept putting up. Yet, it wasn’t actually a barrier. He was being honest with her, he  hadn’t been making choices for her. But, this didn’t feel right. They needed to discuss it. Even if it was only on her side, she needed to understand it. It might be something they would always agree to disagree on, but it needed to examined.

 

“But why didn’t you hurt me? You knew I was working with Oliver? You knew I knew he was The Hood. Yet you only attacked McKenna Hall.”

 

“Oliver also told you to ‘get out, this is a private matter’ and you left. McKenna Hall was a cop who never knew when to stay on the sidelines.”

 

“Yes, she was going after the Arrow too.” Oliver had come downstairs and finished off their conversation. McKenna Hall. He had thought he wouldn’t forget her, but he had honored her request and stayed away. But staying away meant pushing her to back of his mind and moving on. McKenna had been his first adult relationship. He wouldn’t dare say drama-free, underneath there had been too many uncertain currents — she a cop tracking him, the vigilante, being the most obvious — but it had felt normal while it lasted. After Helena, finding someone as grounded as McKenna -- who still accepted him despite his speckled past, despite his unspoken memories of an island -- had been a relief. She had had high standards despite being “slim pickings.” She had been good for him.

 

“Helena, I’ll take it from here.” Oliver still needed to change into regular street clothes, but why hurry? He was going to enjoy watching Felicity think of a clever way to get herself untied. Undoubtedly, Helena had taught her something. 

 

 _Which of his former lovers had ever stayed on the sidelines? None of them really and they had all paid the price._  

 

Oliver grabbed the judo sticks and went over to the cage that was seldom used for judo practice.  Not that he ever need to change for Felicity to see thru him. Whether he wore street clothes, or his costume, he had no disguise she couldn’t penetrate eventually.  He was disgusted with himself for not recognizing his pattern. He had thought she was different, but maybe they were all the same? It felt good to let out this raging turmoil. Was he to blame for the commonality?  Or did he just seek them out? 

 

Helena packed and departed. Felicity remained unmoved and silent until she had left. After the door had closed upstairs, Oliver put down the judo sticks and glanced over at Felicity. She hadn’t even tried to unbind herself. Maybe they weren’t all the same after all? 

 

“You can cut me loose now.”  

 

“Nope. You wanted to learn self-defense. So learn it.” He could feel the tension in the air. He hadn’t meant to be so short, but it made absolutely no sense that she would insist on wanting to learn how to defend herself, but not wanting to learn how to escape. Of course, if she ever got cuffed to a chair as Count Vertigo has had her once, she wouldn’t be able to escape, but she could learn the basics of cutting herself free from ropes.

 

Felicity looked at him exasperatedly. “So Oliver, please share what your deal is. I thought I understood after Sara, but finding out you trained Helena? It’s okay to train all your other girlfriends but me?”

 

“I never trained Laurel either.” Oliver felt his voice rising. 

 

He breathed hard. He was still bothered by the revelation he had just had. Dig always understood without his fully explaining - or his even needing to make sense, but Felicity was not Dig. More than that, she wasn’t just his friend, his work partner, but someone far beyond that. He loved her and wanted truly to have a relationship with her, with all that relationships entailed, good and bad. Maybe he even deserved to have more with her, beyond just love —but he pushed the thought of more away. While he remained ramrod straight, he felt like he was fumbling around internally. He felt lost. In other times, he would have ignored the confusion by moping, sleeping around, or partying. In other times, he would have just run away. In other times, he would have just assumed another mantle to survive, to return home. In other times, he would have a worn his mask, his hood. But now, he had moved beyond that boy, that man-child. He didn’t know what he was now. He couldn’t go back to other times, but how could he move forward? 

 

“Felicity, you said this lair was your home once. You are safe here. Of course, you go on missions with Dig and I, but it’s like you once said ‘if you’re not leaving, I’m not leaving.’ I have left you many times on the field unprotected, so I know there’s risk, but I at least I know you’re safer ….” He trailed off. Was he making sense?

 

“What is so wrong with my being unsafe?” 

 

Oliver groaned impatiently. “There is everything wrong with it. I saw Shado die in front of me, Helena went down an even darker road, McKenna was wounded. Laurel’s been kidnapped multiple times and Sara’s got a ruthless streak in her.” He had tried to keep his voice steady but it was growing ragged and uneven, the tears concealed behind his conflicting emotions. "Every relationship I have had — I always lose someone. I even lost my mother! Now, you’re asking me to — not care if you are lost to me too?"

 

Felicity turned her head away. Finally, she looked back at him and still as determined as ever, she spoke up, “then why did you open up your heart to me?”

 

“Felicity, I just told you.” His tone was one of defeat. He had been truthful, but he had only skimmed the surface.

 

She knew he had told her the truth but there was else that he wasn’t saying, that he was afraid of, perhaps. “That’s not enough!” she said heatedly.

 

If they hadn’t been dating, they both would have left it at that. If they hadn’t been dating, they would have fled to the safety of the boundaries that existed between, that they had always muddied despite attempts not to. Still, their style of arguing remained the same.

 

Oliver expectedly waited for Felicity to walk away in disappointment while he dealt with his bruised soul. Why wasn’t she walking away? He knew he probably come around to agreeing with her point of view, eventually, - on his own terms, but now was not the moment. She could at least walk away! Whenever they fought and she walked away, at least when they came back together, they found a way to compromise. But it appeared there would be no compromising her part. She could at attempt to understand if she wouldn’t compromise. 

 

“Oh,” He gazed at her, eyes startled into surprise and even wonder. He couldn’t help but let out an innocent, confused laugh. No wonder she wasn’t walking away! She was still tied up. Maybe he shouldn’t be laughing, but it felt nice. He knew he was being absurd being afraid to gaze at the new person within him, this stranger— but that was one of the many reasons why he never liked being alone. He was a leader who didn’t like to lead. He was a hero who needed a team. No, never alone — but never being not alone meant he didn’t have to reflect, only react. But he wanted more than that now. 

 

“Felicity,” he knelt down on the floor beside her, but he found he couldn’t finish his sentence. He cut the binds from her feet and hands. 

 

“Why were you amused?” Her eyes were incredulous, the fire gone out of them. She had seen this Oliver once before, the night he had disjointedly told her his stories of survival, about Slade, about Shado. 

 

“You’re not walking away.” He wished he could put it more concisely, what he really meant. 

 

“I guess I can’t do that anymore either.” She finally gave him a smile. 

 

Becoming a couple had always been easier said than done for them. Oliver cupped Felicity’s face in his hands, but he wasn’t finished quite yet. 

 

“Felicity, I’m not like you or Dig. I have always run away from my feelings. I’m not doing that now with you, but even when I never ran away, in past relationships, I still never let myself be … self-aware. I could do what I wanted without thought to the consequences. Slade brought home to me there’s always consequences. I tried playing it safe, thinking it would keep you safe. But I nearly lost you. I don’t want to be safe anymore — but I still …” He paused. There was where his clarity ended. He knew he wasn’t going to feel brave probing deeper into his own mind for what it was, but if he wanted more, needed more — and every ounce of him did— then he would have to. 


	4. Laurel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I wrote this chapter during two weeks before 3.01 aired. It basically wrote itself. I would not write it now. However, I am going to honour the hope and optimism I had before the show aired and post this chapter. 
> 
> I've very, very upset with Sara's murder. As I have noted on 'OM&M', she was my rope. I only came out last year to my parents. I am aware there are other wonder bi, lesbian, and trans superheroes out there, but she was my first. Not having her is very upsetting. Also, she's the fifth woman fridged on the show, and that's not okay with me. She was killed for lazy reasons too. Just as Moira was, just as Shado was. I'm done with the show, but I will finish this fic. (I need closure on Olicity too, after all!)
> 
> But this chapter is being published written as is. It hasn't been edited. It hasn't been polished as the others were for clarity and detail. I can't. That's how utterly destroyed I feel by the show. (But in it's raw state, you at least get a peak of what my unedited thoughts. So maybe you will find it interesting for different reasons)

“I always pegged you for a Pepper Potts.”

“Because I was Oliver’s EA? Oh, god, I’m going to hold that over his head forever.” Felicity smiled, but sighed. She has always understood his reasoning, and that to complain would have been trivial, when even at Queen Consolidated, they were still using their resources and time for the greater good, but oh! that cover! "I’ve always seen myself as a Jane Foster.”

“Jane? Why her?” Laurel couldn't move her body, but her eyes locked onto Felicity’s, with curiosity.

“Because science mattered to her. Because she always looked to the stars to find out more about the universe. Thor meant something to her, but she still care intensely about her own discoveries. Look, I know why you made the Pepper Potts comparison, but has anyone ever considered my heels and dresses might be just as much a costume as yours, Sara’s, Roy’s or Oliver’s costumes? Pepper didn’t recognize Coulson’s detonater. Meanwhile, I help Oliver explode buildings. Pepper’s certainly done plenty in saving the day not at all to be dismissed or trivialized, but Jane.” Felicity paused. “Jane for me, and you’re Sif.”

“You do like your technology,” Laurel smiled. They were making small talk, not actually doing what they should be doing, but it felt nice. Felicity’s heels and short skirts were costumes? Laurel mulled that one over. She, Helena, and Sara had been debating the practicality of Felicity’s fashion while on the job, but Felicity might be onto something they had missed. 

“Who’s Sara?” Laurel flicked her hair out of her face and started scooting her chair further away from Felicity's.

“Sara’s Natasha. Completely different movie, but same universe.” Felicity looked amused at Laurel. 

They were supposed to be freeing themselves from the chairs they were tied to. Laurel had set this up with Nyssa as a training exercise. Their hands were bound, and they were further tied to the chairs themselves. Their feet were free though. They had felt no urgency to hurry. Their lack of concern had led to them to small talk ranging from Laurel’s love of spicy foods to their favorite shade of blonde dye, to their current discussion of movies.

“Felicity, you aren’t even trying.”

“Well, that’s because you’re here!” 

Laurel stopped what she was doing. “You wanted to trained, and you’ve been in a situation like this before, but you don’t seem to care?”

“I do care, but there’s also an advantage to criminals thinking one is weak, helpless. Why is this so important to you? I mean — it’s not my business, but I know how passionately you fought for the Glades, and for those less fortunate.”

Laurel smiled. “You know, you’re the first to ask. It’s not just about being a lawyer. I’ve been through multiple kidnappings. It’s almost a joke how many times people have come into my apartment, how many times I’ve been rendered helpless. I’m sick of it. Doing this— is me. I’m tired of Oliver having to rescue me. I’m tired of being a sidekick kept at a distance. This isn’t about him, Sara, or my career, it’s about me.”

Bump, bump, bump went Laurel’s chair along the floor. “Besides, Felicity, if you ever experienced what I did under the Dollmaker, you’d probably step it up too. It’s selfish, but I’m learning to save me first. Being able to save the city is just the bonus.”

Laurel started thumping the chair back and forth. Felicity knew exactly what Laurel was doing. She watched as Laurel forced the chair to gain momentum, to speed up. Finally, Laurel knocked herself down. She crashed ungracefully, but the chair had broken. Laurel started shimmying to loosen the rope and remove the broken chair parts. 

Felicity watched her in silence. “I suppose if I had survived multiple kidnappings, I would probably have the same reaction you do. But — right now — I just want self-defense, as in fighting. Not this. Oliver can do this. You — “ Felicity trailed off. Laurel was standing up. Whether she had learned this on her own, or had been taught by Ted, she had learned well. 

“Felicity, I actually think it’s a bit absurd you’re taking self-defense training, when your own technology skills are far more rare than ours. All our talents combined couldn’t come close to matching yours.”

“Well, hacking isn’t something you learn overnight.”

“Yes, but we could be better educated.”

Felicity smiled thoughtfully. She was very protective of her little corner of The Foundry, but what if something happened to her? God knows, they did need to better informed of how to get by. She cringed remembering Oliver and Diggle’s setup. Yes, she was in a position of power herself, and it was power and training she was not sharing, that she should be sharing. 

Laurel had taken out a concealed knife from her pant’s back pocket, and was cutting the bonds tied around her hands, still tied behind her back. 

“Well, Laurel, not even the Heir to the Demon can keep you bound.” 

“I’m just surprised Oliver has never trained you.” Laurel said, continually to saw away at the rope tied around her hands.

“He never trained you?”

“Avoidance issues and understanding without complete honesty on both sides was a specialty of ours. I can’t even — imagine him — training me. Not sure that I would want him to either, even if I had known when he first came back who he was. I was as conflicted about Oliver back then as I was about the Hood, the Arrow.”

There was silence between them. If Helena had unleashed a bomb about Oliver’s issues, then Laurel had shifted the dynamics back to Felicity. 

After a little while, Laurel had unbound herself and then she unloosened Felicity. 

“What should we do now?” Felicity asked. The team would be coming back in a little while. They had taken bets on whether or not Laurel and Felicity would be able to free themselves or not.

“What are these?” Laurel had been in the Foundry many times but had never noticed the judo sticks.

“Martial arts. Judo sticks. Oliver, Dig, and Roy use them.”

Felicity handed Laurel, then took the other two. “Almost like fencing, I guess.”

They started playfully swatting at each other. Laurel who had fencing in school was slightly better than Felicity at aiming and coordination, but Felicity was faster at ducking and maneuring around the sticks. They both fumbled constantly. They broke into laughter. 

“These were not part of the bet,” Oliver’s face was somber, even if his eyes contained a gleam at their mischief. He took the judo sticks back. He was intently ignoring his surprise that they were both free. How? 

“Relax, Ollie, we weren’t going to poke each other’s eyes out.”


	5. Oliver + Felicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to have been finished months ago. As much as I loathe season 3, you will probably note it has tangentially influenced this chapter. I apologize for the long delay in finishing it. Truth be told, this is the first fanfic (whole or chapter) I've written since Aug. I'm glad my bug is back. I need to write these characters. Even though my own fic will now greatly diverge from show canon, I still need and love these characters.

Oliver glanced at Felicity. She was on the computer. He noted how toned her arms had gotten. Indeed, they always had been, but lately they seemed more impressive.  He had seen her earlier that morning, working out. “Working out” in her jammies. She despised push-ups even after all this time. She had started doing them during the summer after Slade attacked, but she had never cared for them. He had thought the working out in the pajamas was a joke at first, but when he discovered it wasn’t, he couldn’t help but laugh regardless of how often he saw her protestingly doing it. Of course, she wore actual workout clothes when she was with Sara, Helena, and Laurel training, but some things were never gonna change. 

 

Their disagreement over her training had never really resolved itself. They just had -- moved on.  "Well, at least she knows how to make a punch count when it matters,” Oliver thought. He realized what he had just thought. How contradictory! Well, he was proud of her, even though it was startling to realize that he was grateful she could hold herself against a vengeful ex. A sudden memory crossed his mind. Then inspiration —or a realization -- struck. Passing by her he stripped off his charcoal henley and loosened his belt a notch.

 

He stood in front of the dummy. "Show off!," he thought to himself. He wanted her attention, he wanted her to fawn over him like she had in the days before they had dated. Training had always been a chore, but her oogling him had made it seem — fun. At least for a little while. As he punched away, he reflected on their slow blossoming relationship.  It’s not that she was the first women he had ever valued before — he learned too little, too late — but she gave him what no other woman ever had. He had never needed to her to return his love. His joy at discovering she did love him back was like nothing he could recall. Unlike his other relationships, where the difference of opinion had made a death knell, somehow they could disagree but still better each other.

 

But still!, he missed her babbling, flustered self around him. Those innocuous comments she used to make when her nerves bubbled up. It was his fault he had made training so serious, so self-important, but even before John and Felicity had joined, he had treated it as a life or death concern. Even with Helena and Sara, he still always held a part of himself back, not letting go entirely of the business at hand.  It was his fault he had cut Felicity off from something she had enjoyed — and was good at herself. He missed the joy of flaunting himself in front of her, of knowing she was looking at him, because she had always looked at him, not his scars. To other people, he had been the playboy, the survivor, the brother, the lover, the tragic hero, but she saw all of him. Their relationship has long matured past that, but he missed that innocence. He missed knowing she could have give him grief one minute but still check him out the next. How had they gotten here? She had always managed to trip him up, then hold out her hand as he struggled to find new ways. 

 

So, here he was, smacking away at a dummy, being passive-aggressive as he once had been in days of old. It felt performative, it _was_ performative, but he needed it. They were alone in the Foundry. Diggle had gone home to little Sara and Lyla, Sara and Nyssa were off on another mission, Laurel was out tonight with Helena. Laurel, lawyer by day, vigilante by night — she was effective and far more clean than Sara or Oliver had ever been. She reminded them the law went both ways. She was still green, despite how kickass she was, so Helena always shadowed her. Helena and LaureL. He was in awe of them, even if he parted ways with their goals. 

 

 Felicity was doing Team Arrow work. She hadn’t yet begun to teach the others her skills. There was always something in the way. Life.  Laurel and Lyla were the most anxious to learn from her, but the others insisted it was her turf. Why would something happen to you? There were so many of them looking after you. Plus, you could defend herself now. Oliver had even refused — I don’t train you, why would you train me? He reminded her of when she first upgraded his system. “It’s hacking not Microsoft for Dummies,” he had said. Nope, not getting into her space.

 

 Felicity wasn’t even looking at him out the corner of her eye. He foundered and gave up. 

 

“Am I enough for you?” That wasn’t what he meant to ask.

 

His voice broke the distance between them. She looked up. She knew what he was asking. He had always asked those questions, even before they got together. He knew who he was, but he also knew who he had been. Was it enough? Was he being fair to her? Did she feel loved and valued? Of course, she knew he loved her, that wasn’t the point. Was he enough — was he not holding her back. He wanted her to be loved, but never held back, but he knew he wasn’t, because she had told him what he meant to her when Slade tried to ruin him. But it was more than that — something he couldn’t quite voice. He felt it connected back to his old doubts about her training, but he wasn’t sure what it was he needed to know.

 

Felicity tried to speak. She stared at him intently. For all his abs, arrows, and money, he was sometimes like a lost little boy. The way he had been swiveling his hips though. Had he been trying to flirt with her? She had smothered her smile and continued working, but she had noticed it.  But now, that question.

 

It wasn’t that Oliver didn’t enjoy her seeing his body, but never used the exercise equipment anymore for that, and why would he? He was more light-hearted and at ease, but he was no longer out to impress her. He had no need to. It was not as if she was being taken for granted. Sometimes he was so serious about them. Always worried about messing them up, always cautious. He wanted them to work.  But as to his question, well, he did have the right to ask since it has taken her so long to say I love you back. Her abandonment issues had held her back, her concern she would be just another woman on his way to death’s door, her horror of having another boyfriend die. So she had waited. She had watched, but had he ever truly doubted that she needed him? As much as he needed her? 

 

Without waiting for her answer, he pointed to the dummy. “You haven’t been training for yourself. You just stopped. It’s because of me, it’s because — I was wrong.” He fumbled, searching for a way to ask her what he needed to know, “but you’re still with me. Why?”  

 

“Oliver, my life would be boring and mundane without you. I know you don’t want to be front and center on the mission anymore, but I need this.” She knew that wasn’t exactly what he had asked, so she continued.  "But this life would incomplete without you.” It really would. She knew that now more than ever. She paused. It was true she hadn’t trained in awhile. Ever since she and Laurel had had their training session, she had been forced to reassess why she had been training. 

 

“I thought I had something to prove, but I guess I don’t — any longer.” It wasn’t a satisfactory answer, but Starling City no longer had just Oliver and Diggle. Now, it was taken care by many people, who not only protected the city, but each other. They weren’t just co-workers or friends, they were each other’s family. 

 

“But why are you still with me? Isn’t the excitement gone?” Oliver reflected he never had had a normal relationship. What did it mean to have a non-dramatic relationship? Even their relationship was built on the back of his superheroing. He wasn’t worried about it being safe. Whenever it got too quiet, that’s when he started to fear the most that someone else in his life would be taken away. However, had it changed too much? He found himself staring at Felicity’s arms again. Which reminded him.

 

He pointed at the dummy. “I know this was a sore spot between us — training. I know I disagreed with you.” He wasn’t eloquent when he needed to be. He hoped she understood what he was asking.

 

A long silence ensued. Oliver burnt off his frustrations by going to salmon ladder. That did catch her attention. Always the salmon ladder. But she wasn’t admiring him, but waiting for him to continue talking. She got up from her seat, folded her arms, and then walked closer over. She was waiting, watching, probing. He effortlessly mounted each rung until he was high up, out of her line of sight, and then casually dropped down. He was getting sweaty. There was no avoiding the topic now. He struggled for better words.

 

“I get lost in myself Felicity, and I get lost here.” No, that wasn’t entirely true, he knew who he was now. He was discovering who he was, but he was quite firm on what Oliver Queen and the Arrow stood for, he had been for awhile. “Do you remember when I first told you about Hong Kong? Do you remember when you first met me? I’ve associated training with my mask, my secret. You were the only person who ever saw through my mask — even before I did. But the training —“  

 

He pettered out. It was easier to feel than to explain. Fortunately, she knew him too well, even when his articulateness failed him. 

 

But the subject wasn’t finished yet. There was another lingering issue.

 

“So, you’ll train me now?” She had issued him a challenge, even if it had come wrapped in a question. He felt both unnerved and turned on. Perhaps he was a little too caught up in the nostalgia of when he had first met her, when she first observed him. Reality came rushing back swiftly though when he realized the gravity of what it meant. 

 

“I don’t know if I’m capable of that, Felicity.” 

 

She turned away, grimacing, but he went over to her. “Felicity, I don’t know if I’m capable of training you, but I —“ 

 

 He wouldn’t hurt her, but what could he do? Judo sticks flashed into his mind. He recalled she and Laurel had had a fascination with them. He got them out and handed two to her. He breathed deeply. He pushed the ghosts away. This is what he wanted. This is what he needed. This is what she desired. But what if? No, Oliver —  focus. 

 

“I’m teaching you how to use your body, not to use these as weapons; you can learn how to duck, to weave, to move quickly if someone tries to harm you. It’s about faster reflexes, anticipating the surprise, but also keeping your opponent off guard about your next move.” 

 

He thought back to the day he had caught Felicity and Laurel attempting to use the judo sticks. “It’s not like sword fighting or fencing. It’s different.”

 

He came around behind her. He pushed his chest into her back, which caused her to involuntarily let out a sigh. A sigh of contentment, and maybe of lust. She caught herself, “Sorry, I know — it’s just — you probably don’t remember how much your training -- used to be a distraction for me.” Where had that come from? She privately wondered.  Walter’s I.T. girl had long vanished, but she had surfaced again, for a fleeting few seconds. Felicity gathered herself together. Her appreciation of his body had never been a flub, but now was not the time to make innuendoes or be unprofessional. She looked at him and encountered a warm smile, but his eyes were full of vulnerability and longing.

 

 He circled around her. Her eyes never left his face.  He gently poked her with one of the judo sticks. 

 

Felicity inwardly groaned at herself. Yes, she had seen him with Sara and had heard about his training with Helena, but she meant to be different. She had forgotten how playful he could be though. His energy was electric and every fiber of him was - charging. “Oliver Jonas Queen!” She smacked him lightly with the judo stick. He dodged around it. “Are we training or are we — ?” She didn’t need to finish that sentence. 

 

She sighed again. He made a hmmmming sound as he closed the space between them. He let his judo sticks fall to the ground and put his arms around her. He felt a ping of guilt for wondering if he had taken something for granted. Always afraid of the past, but scared of the future. That guilt again, when all he needed was to live in the present. He realized he didn’t want to live with this guilt any longer. He just wanted focus on what he had, even if it there was always the danger of it being taken him. He would just have to make peace with that guilt, that pain, but he was too used to the weight. What would it be like without the weight though?

 

“Oliver.” She called him back. He had been lost in thought, but she hadn’t moved from his arms. 

 

“You’re not training me.” She tried to sound gruff but she was lost in the moment as well. Oliver always said so much with just his body. Felicity sensed his struggle. His body was torn between desire and crumpling. He was letting go of -- something, that had bothered him for awhile. He was supporting himself but hugging her, reminding himself she was still there. 

 

Finally, he unwrapped his arms from around her and let them slide down and onto the hands that grasped the judo sticks. He could smell her hair. She was using that lavender scent again. Her natural hair was also showing at the roots.  “You should take your heels off.”

 

“But when I’m held hostage, I’m often in heels,” she pointed out practically.

 

“But I’m barefoot and I enjoy my toes.” 

 

He whirled out of her space and into a new position catching her off-guard. She had dropped the judo sticks and lightly smacked at him and he ducked and turned into her again. It was almost as if they were dancing. She should be professional -- but he was getting the better of her, so she tried to once again to swipe at him and missed, but she tumbled into him, sending them both collapsing into the mattress, Felicity’s glasses became lopsided. As she sat up, Oliver broke into laughter. Her hair was starting to come apart. Felicity laughed too.  

 

He drew her up into his arms. “We’re doing this wrong. You’re supposed to be the moving out the way.”

 

“I don’t think you have it in your heart to hit me, even playfully.” She fixed her glasses and snuggled into him.

 

“Nope, Felicity. Get up. I'm deflecting from what I'm supposed to be doing-- training you." He pulled her up off the ground with him. “You’re still in your dress too. Where are your workout clothes?”

 

“I don’t have any here. You know I only train with the girls now.”

 

“Well, you can’t wear that and train."

 

She was about to suggest they could do this tomorrow, but seeing the determined glint in his eyes, she decided otherwise. She went over to the locker where Oliver kept his spare clothes and pulled out his grey zip up hoodie. She took off her heels and set them on the ground softly, and then took off her dress, and put on the worn but still durable hoodie. Then she went back to where he was. “Better now?”

 

“Much better.” 

 

He swung her back into his chest and held her. He was curious, although he had observed her free herself numerous times, he had actually never asked her to demonstrate for him, using him. So he held her, waiting for her fight back. “I’m usually in heels when this happens.”

 

“Well, what if you don’t have on heels the next time it happens?”

 

Everyone knew as much as she loathed her heels, they were a weapon she could use. She wasn’t giving them up, even if she have more practical shoes lying around at home and at work, in the Foundry. But since he had asked she jammed him with her elbow and spun out his arms. 

 

“Yowsa!” She certainly could fight back when it counted. 

 

“I’m sorry, Oliver, did that hurt?” She reached up and cupped his cheeks. Then she kissed him on the lips. Without her heels on, she had to reach up on her tiptoes. He slouched down as their lips met. 

 

“My vanity hurts, but that’s all,” he said after their kiss ended.

 

She already knew the stories of how Slade had trained him. She had already seen him train with Diggle and Roy. “Watch me, then it will be your turn."

 

He wasn’t trying to be flirty, but he stroked her legs with the judo sticks as he passed around. He wasn’t trying to be romantic, but he leaned in and kissed her again as he swooped in, then swirled around before she fully realized how fast he had moved. He wasn’t trying to show-off, but he enjoyed her eyes flickering on his body as he darted, dived, and teased her with the judo sticks. He was in earnest about training her, but he wanted her to feel as she had once made him feel: on fire, alive and ready, and not held back.

 

Finally, he handed her judo sticks.

 

“Ooh, this will awkward.” She held the judo sticks gingerly.  “This certainly isn’t the same as punching a dummy."

 

She lightly tapped him with one stick. He prodded her on, “It does sting, but it won’t leave a scar. You can hit me hard.” 

 

Felicity knew she didn’t want to actually hurt him, but you can only convince a stubborn lover of so much. But he and Diggle never held back when they trained, nor were he and Roy, or Diggle or Roy. “You told Sara once you didn’t want her getting any more bruises.”

 

He said nothing but pressed her hands more firmly around the judo sticks. “Are you sure I won’t hurt you, Oliver?” 

 

“I’m sure.” 

 

She glided around him, but he moved quick. He was too fast, he could sense her every move, and yet, he didn’t always get out of the way. She flinched the few times she struck him. He egged her on by getting aggressively into her space. Although still reluctant, she gave it her all. 

 

As he swiveled around her, Felicity noted he was started to burn with a desire to do something else. He was beginning to lose focus -- and it was enabling her to sting him quite easily. Whatever guilt he was still attempting to let go, this certainly wasn’t related to it. He was looking at her devilishly despite yelping in surprise when the sticks got him. 

 

The tension was rising between them. Finally it snapped, and Oliver lunged into her, lifting her up off the ground.

 

“Oliver!,” she tried to protest but wrapped her legs more tightly around him.  They would have to talk later, about how this training was going to take place. They would have to figure out — how not to let it lead into this. He had taken her across the room and  was unzipping the hoodie she had on as her butt came to rest on the cold, metal first aid table. The coldness clashed with their body heat as Felicity undid his belt and loosened his pants. 

 

But as swiftly as he had thrown himself at her, just as swiftly his desire faded. Oliver became aware he was crying. “I’m sorry, Felicity,” he thought he was apologizing for losing the moment, but perhaps not. As his tears rolled down his cheeks making his blue eyes shine clearly, he felt a wave of relief although his face was red with embarrassment. He kissed her again. The kiss was not one of pent-up anger and secrets as it had been with Helena, nor was it was the kiss of unfinished business and layers of guilt as with Sara. What was it? He tenderly kissed Felicity on the forehead. 

 

“Perhaps, not here. We’re all sticky.” However, she kissed his forehead, then his cheeks. She pause and looked at him. “I hit you there,” she pointed to his an area just above his bratva tattoo and kissed it.  She got down off the table and took his hands. “let’s go upstairs and shower.” She grabbed his hand and started guiding him, full of purpose.

 

 He stopped her and kissed her again. He went back to Felicity’s lips. His tears were ending, but his burden felt lighter. He felt aware of himself.  He recollected that all his previous lunges had ended in full-blown sex. This hadn’t but it didn’t feel like when he had been with Shado either. There he had been a man-child trying to make sense of his challenged humanity. This was different.

 

What was this? It wasn’t like when he had been with McKenna or Laurel either. He had tried to hide his world-weary soul and had put on a shield of his former self. It was as if all the pieces of his past selves had surfaced -- but he didn't need those selves now. The selves he had clung to for so long. The desire was beginning to surge through him again, but he wanted to savor Felicity. He wanted — 

 

Felicity watched his confused face. “is this about my training?” 

 

“Yes. No. I guess I don’t know.” 

 

“Are you okay?” 

 

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m letting go — but yet maybe it’s been there all along. I don’t know.” He hated saying he didn’t know. He was Oliver Queen, always in control, always informed, yet he truly he didn’t. He felt better though. 

 

He looked around then his eyes sparkled again. 

 

“Well, I do know next time we’ll have to train with the dummy instead.” 

 

“No, actually, I’ll be showing you how to access the internet — and how to type.”

 

“I can type!” 

 

She moved closer to him. His pants were starting to sag now and she could feel a vent of cold air from somewhere. She shivered and pulled him into her, hugging him. He sighed again shutting his eyes and realizing he was finally free -- not from his fears, never his fears, but he was free from what had held him back.  

 

Felicity started stroked his chest. She didn’t want to argue when he was still sorting out his feelings of clarity, of insight, that had come to him tonight. “For now, Oliver, for now —“ but she found herself being kissed again. A slow, sweet, intense kiss. Oliver lingered as he broke away from Felicity. 

 

“Just us, Felicity — for now.” 

 

_Their scars bear the testimony of trials past, but were also a witness to the strength of mind and body, and the pleasure to come._


End file.
